What Could Have Been
by amyhslaw34
Summary: Peter and Olivia meet for the fist time but this time their roles and lifestyles are in reverse. Special Agent Peter Bishop works alongside his father at the FBI. When he is sent to Iraq on an undercover operation, the outcome is far from expected.
1. Introduction

"Open it." Broyles tossed a brown envelope onto the desk so that it landed face-down on the glass. Peter casually flipped it over. His eyes scanned the just-legible writing scrawled across the front.  
"I don't have clearance." He slid the envelope back towards his boss. Broyles ignored him.  
"Clonal Broyles-" Peter raised his voice slightly but was cut off.  
"I'm giving you clearance." Broyles said cooly, "Now if you're done questioning me-"

Inside the envelope was a file and inside the file, a stack of papers. Peter flicked through the first few pages, briefly analysing the contents before handing his attention back to Broyles.

ZFT. An organisation which is part of an unknown number of privately funded cells with presence in eighty-three countries. Members are not terrorists in the conventional sense - they traffic in scientific progress.

"There have been an increased number of attacks in the past two months. Most recently a compound that has wiped victims of all neurological functions, as you can imagine this is not something the FBI are used to dealing with. We have contacts in Iraq who are working to set up a sale with one of their handlers. But we need someone with an advanced science background to make the sale."

Peter sighed, "Right," He spoke with an apprehensive tone, "I've never worked undercover before- and Iraq, that's not exactly local."

Broyles nodded, "I appreciate your concerns, but this sale could be our only chance to learn exactly who are behind these attacks. We can't risk sending anyone else."

Peter flashed a sarcastic grin, "When do I leave?"


	2. In Which We Meet Miss Dunham

Peter fitted the chip snugly into the base of his earlobe.  
"So what's the plan?" He asked, as the standard black SUV pulled up outside the hotel. Junior Agent Astrid Farnsworth looked up from her notes and muttered nervously to herself for a moment before she answered,  
"Just, urm, well it's room 306," she handed Peter a grey stump of plastic, "here's the key."  
"And what about once I'm inside?"  
"Don't worry, we will feed any information you may need through your earpiece - the rest is, well, it's up to you really. Try not to screw it up." She smiled sincerely. The car door swung open and Peter stepped out onto the curb.  
"Thanks sweetheart." He laughed as Astrid drove off to park around the corner.

It wasn't the most luxurious of hotels, but Peter didn't plan on staying for any extended period of time. Room 306 was quite a way up and so he endured an uncomfortable 50 second elevator ride with two rather large gentlemen, one of whom was carrying a rather large gun. A powerful stench of cheap cleaning products and damp furniture lingered in the air. Peter counted the room numbers one by one until he came to a door between 305 and 307 with the number '30' stuck on in brass.  
"I wonder what happened to the six." Peter murmured under his breath, as he pulled the plastic key from inside his jacket pocket and slid it into the slit in the door. A green light flashed repeatedly and Peter took a deep breath before unbuttoning his jacket and stepping inside.

There was a dusty lamp in the corner that shone a meagre orange light. On one side of the room was a steel-frame bed an on the other, a mustard moth-eaten sofa where the dealer was sat up ridged- her eyes locked on Peter. She was a similar age to himself and had sleek blond hair tied back from her face. Despite the lack of light, Peter could see the dark blue circles that sunk deep under her eyes. He moved cautiously towards her, and noticed a particularly broad shouldered man stood as her shadow. With a subtle nod, the woman dismissed her shadow and Peter stepped a little closer.  
"I know you have read up on me, so I will not insult your intelligence by hiding my identity." Her voice was hollow, and her haunted eyes cut through the dimly lit room.  
"But for civility's sake, my name is Olivia Dunham."


	3. 05:17 am

"Let's get down to business then." Olivia lifted a leather briefcase onto the table and turned the numbers until the latch flicked open. Inside was several vials of blue-black liquid, a gas cylinder and a transparent tub of luminous orange gel. Peter picked up a vial and held it up close to his face, examining the contents.  
"I believe your colleague and I agreed on a price, so there's no need for further discussion." Olivia watched Peter draw out a substantial amount of 100 dollar bills from his jacket pocket. Through the hidden chip he had previously forgotten about, Peter heard an anxious Astrid grumble down his ear.  
"Stall her Peter," she whispered," we need more information on ZFT."  
"What's the rush Miss Dunham?" Peter asked cautiously, "I think that i would feel more secure if I knew a little more about who I am buying from."  
"I understand," Olivia leant forward resting her elbows on the varnished coffee table that stood between Peter and herself, "As you know, I work for an organisation known as ZFT. We base our research around the advancement of science and technology. This is majorly through the use biological and technological weapons to conduct natural experiments. Only, the entire world is our lab, we do not believe that there are limits on the advances on science but in order to control the expansion of our work, we must keep up with any progressions."  
"And who runs ZFT? You must report back to someone." As soon as Peter spoke he wished he hadn't. Olivia grinned and, starting to feel uncomfortable, Peter took a subtle step back.  
"You know Mr. Bishop, you wouldn't make a bad actor, if you weren't FBI of course." Olivia had her gun aimed straight at Peter's neck before he even had chance to think to reach for his own. From behind him, Peter heard the hotel room door swing open and shut. Two dark figures arched over him, one of which was the broad shouldered man whom Olivia had just dismissed. Peter shifted awkwardly where he stood.  
"I said that I would not insult your intelligence by hiding my identity," she shrugged her shoulders,"but I'm afraid that you have underestimates me Mr. Bishop, I know exactly who you are."  
Outside the morning sun had just began to peer above the rim of the city. A man took his routine place on the pavement outside an antique jewellery shop and waited patiently. He set out his polystyrene cup which contained nothing but a tarnished quarter. For a moment the city was still and it too waited patiently. Waited for a gun to fire two bullets as the clocks approached 05:17am.


	4. A Dead End

Peter's eyes shot down at the two men lay motionless on the floor. Crimson stains on the carpets spread under his shoes and he looked back at Olivia who had lowered her gun. Their eyes locked for a moment before she buttoned her jacket and moved towards the door.  
"Come on," Olivia grabbed Peter's arm, "we need to go."  
"What? Where are we going? No. I'm not going anywhere with you, are you inane?" Peter shook himself free from her grasp and stormed out of the room.  
"Bishop!" She followed him into the corridor.  
"How do you know my-"  
"Stop being such a pain in the ass, I'll explain on the way."  
Olivia and Peter ran the seven flights of stairs down to the basement where a jet black, growling SUV waited. Peter sunk into the tough leather seats and leant back as the car sped out of the basement and down a shadowed road. Through the chip in his ear Peter could hear the faint crackles of Astrid's voice. Only when they were clearly out of reach and Peters ear chip was silenced did the car skid to a halt at the end of a dead street.  
"I hate to be blunt," Peter turned his head slightly, "but what the hell is going on?"  
"I'm sorry I made such a scene back at the hotel," she spoke as if it had happened weeks ago as oppose to a number of minutes, "but I can't risk them finding out."  
"Who are you running from?" Peters voice was demanding.  
"I'm not running from anyone! You really don't have a clue, do you?" Olivia tried to hide her frustration.  
"Your not ZFT." Peter stated rather than asked.  
"Yes I- well not exactly," Olivia shook her head, "officially I am an active member of the organisation, but Independently I am against everything they have done and everything they are planning."  
"You're a cop? Undercover?" Peter was deeply confused.  
"No. I'm not a cop," Olivia sighed as if she had already explained twice over, "I have been a member of ZFT for almost three years. But never have I met the founder, the leader...the man who murdered my sister and niece. Four years ago they were caught in a biological attack in Chicago, those responsible were never convicted but I know exactly who was behind it."  
"I'm sorry." Peters tone of voice softened, he leant forwards slightly, "You must have witnessed such horrific events, all to track down and kill one man?"  
"I need your help Bishop." Her eyes cut through the dark. "I know you are FBI but you can't tell anyone about this. Please. If anyone finds out what I'm doing, I'm dead. Though I haven't made much progress in the past three months, I have three years worth of work dedicated to finding this man. We could do it, if you'll work with me we could take him down."  
"I can't." Peter shook his head, "I can't lie to the FBI, they'll know, and I'll loose my job, no, I'll get arrested, we both will. And, even if we took down one man, you don't think ZFT could continue? Because I assure you, they would."  
"Just think about it." Olivia was almost pleading now. "I know what I am asking of you, I don't expect you to trust me immediately but if you took some time to consider-"  
"No. Miss Dunham- Olivia, I'm sorry if I've wasted your time, but there is no way I'm doing this. I would be risking all that i have for something that I cannot guarantee will lead to anything at all. If you want to contact the FBI that is your choice. But aside from keeping your identity hidden, there is nothing I can do for you now." Peter stepped down out of the car and as he slammed the door turned back to Olivia, "I'm sorry."


	5. White Tulip

"I'm going back to the hotel." Peter slammed the car door and glared at Astrid until she turned the keys to start the engine.  
"What happened?" Astrid asked, concern wavering in her voice, "I lost signal there was no way for me to-"  
"We can leave in the morning," he cut her off, "we're wasting our time here."  
They had drove though the early hours of the morning before reaching their hotel. Peter stormed through the lobby, muttering the name 'Peter Knight' as he brushed past the front desk and fled up the stairs. Astrid followed, nodding awkwardly to the concierge. After eventually finding their hotel room, she was forced to knock repeatedly before an agitated Peter decided to let her in.  
"Do you want to talk or-" Astrid offered as she climbed into the bed furthest from the door. Peter stared beyond the window for a moment before pulling the pin-stripe curtains.  
"I'm exhausted," he shook his head, "I think a solid nights sleep will do me good."  
No more than ten minutes later, both were lay in the darkness, listening to the sound of the city nightlife lullaby, and drifting off to sleep.

**_I lay with my raw cheek to the marble floor, smoke suffocating my lungs. Vision blurred, ears carrying unanswerable ringing and the gauge on my forehead was burning like hell. I couldn't feel it though. Roaring flames licked the ceiling and the heat drew pearls of sweat from my under my skin. Using fear as my crutch, I stood and glared through the glow. She was there. In the one corner the flames daren't touch, and she was focused, her eyes haunted. She concentrated on the heat, draining it from the flames, until I could make out a path. And as I walked through, I swear I saw her smile. And as I turned to watch a burning beam fall, she pulled her gun and shot me clear in the back._**

Peter threw himself forward, gasped and dropped back onto his pillow. His face was damp and feverish. It was quarter to eight. He looked over to the coffee table where a note lay scrawled on a napkin:

GONE OUT FOR COFFEE WILL BE BACK BY 8 -A

There was a short-tempered knock at the door. She's early Peter smiled to himself.  
"Oh," he couldn't help but sound disheartened as the door swung open, "It's you."  
Olivia stood silently in the door frame, her dark rimmed eyes were bloodshot.  
"I came to give you something." Olivia handed over a white paper envelope, "don't worry, I'm not here to convince you to-"  
Peter broke the seal and pulled out a sheet of card. Drawn on in black marker was the outline of a tulip flower.  
"You asked me what difference taking down one man would make, there's your answer." Olivia shrugged and as she turned to leave, Peter reached his hand out and placed it on her shoulder.  
"Hope." He whispered. Olivia turned and smiled, caught in the moment for almost a second before she collapsed on the floor.  
"Peter!" Astrid dropped her coffee as she rushed down the corridor.  
"Astrid she's seizing!" He he threw out his arm towards the pile of luggage, "In my suitcase, she needs diazepam."


	6. Honesty and Trust

Astrid drew the syringe of Valium, lifting it slightly to jab clean into Olivia's leg. As she did so, an overpowering grip froze her wrist in mid air.  
"I'm not having an seizure." Olivia's eyes were forced shut, she took a deep breath and lifted her head, "unless you want to kill me, I'd put that down."  
Astrid's eyes shot to Peter, he shrugged and she set the syringe back down on the carpet.  
"Olivia!" Peter leant forward to support her neck, "you're nose is bleeding."  
Olivia wiped the blood from underneath her nose.  
"Crap." She muttered under her breath and rolled up her sleeve to hide the crimson stain.  
Without warning Olivia got to her feet and pulled an amber tub of pills from her blazer pocket, she tipped two into her palm.  
"What are you doing?" Peters voice was flooded with concern. Olivia jolted her head back swallowing the pills, and forced a weak laugh.  
"They're prescribed, don't you worry."  
"What are they for?" Olivia shrugged and Peter turned his back on her, "You expect me to trust you, to just go along with this and if I'm honest I did trust you. It's funny I thought I could read people, I really did. But you...I don't get you."  
"Peter." Olivia whispered, shaking her head. Astrid sunk into the corner, she wasn't one to deal well with conflict.  
"No, Olivia I need you to be honest with me. What's going on? Are you sick? Because you sure as hell didn't mention that before. I'm sorry but I know nothing about you. I have said I will risk my career, my life all for someone I met less than 12 hours ago; This is insane. But my gut tells me you're safe and honestly, I want to believe you, everything you said- and then there's the envelope, that drawing. How did you know what it stands for in my family? Please tell me, honestly- am I being naive...trusting you?

"Who was that girl, the one in the red blouse?" Olivia focused on the floor, her voice was hollow and empty.  
"Who? Astrid?" Peter was frustrated, he didn't understand what relevance Olivia's question had. He turned expecting to see his colleague waiting patiently in the hallway. Instead, he looked upon an empty stretch of corridor.  
"She left, around a minute ago, to call your head office and-" Olivia was cut off.  
"No, she wouldn't do that, I've worked with Astrid for six years, since she joined the junior programme."  
"Peter I'm sorry but we have to go, I saw the look she gave you- she is young, afraid...what choice do you have now? When the FBI hear about this they'll be out here after you- and that can't happen, because I need you." The glow in Olivia's eyes faded, and Peter felt her pain. To admit that she couldn't do this on her own; he could tell how important independence was to her, and how she hated the sympathy.  
"Fine." Peter couldn't say if she was telling the truth, he couldn't have known that Astrid had left to take a phone call from her father. But Peter saw what he wanted to see, and what he wanted was honesty and trust.  
"Don't think I have forgotten already," Peter muttered as they hurried down the stairs, "you owe me an explanation- for everything."  
Olivia nodded in agreement, "I owe you more than that."

**Please read and review, let me know what you think- your opinions on the characters etc. **

**Any feedback is very much appreciated, THANKYOU! **


	7. Table For Two

"Table for two." Olivia smiled and hung her jacket on a wooden peg.  
"Name please?" Their waiter was a stout man with a single tuft of hair on the top of his head. Each eyebrow hung heavily over his eyes so it was impossible to determine his focus. The man carried an overly powerful smell of aftershave and-  
Peters analysis of the waiter was interrupted.  
"Bishop." Olivia answered politely and then kicked him Peter gently as if to stay stop staring at him you idiot.  
"Oh thanks," he muttered under his breath, "why are we using my name? I'm the one the FBI will be after and if they find me I-"  
"Oh relax for once," Olivia snapped as the waiter lead them over to a particularly private table, "this place do things the old fashioned way, no computer systems, just handwritten records. By the time the FBI get to them we will be long gone."  
"I still don't understand why you were so insistent on going out to dinner anyway. One minute you say we should run and never look back, the next we're out at a Michelin star restaurant and its 'my treat'." Peter glanced over the menu before looking back to Olivia.  
"You said you knew nothing about me." She flicked the menu over to the drinks and couldn't help but laugh slightly at the prices. "So I thought that taking me out to a restaurant was a good idea. It's a start anyway, we can talk and you can ask me any questions. I promise, no more secrets, no more lies."  
Peter had a thousand and one questions lined up ready to fire at will. But in that moment, every single doubt, every single query just disappeared. So instead, they ordered dinner and spoke as if they had no caution, no care and nothing to fear.  
"I had a dream about you last night." Peter said, swallowing a mouthful of lobster.  
Olivia threw him a wink and a suggestive grin.  
"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart." They both laughed and Olivia put her empty glass down.  
"What was it about?" She asked, still smiling.  
"Something to do with fire, a burning building...you were there and you could control it. So first you saved me from burning to the ground...and then you shot me in the back." Peter looked down, in a split second the atmosphere switched and he felt lost and guarded once more.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I've had a bit too much to drink." He waited for her reaction, expecting hurt and frustration to flood from her eyes. So when Olivia burst into uncontrollable laughter, Peter realised how much more she'd had to drink in comparison to himself.  
"What's so funny?" he shook his head, holding back an awkward grin.  
"I don't know," Olivia was struggling to form single words, "it's just you, you're a funny person."  
And as they left the restaurant and walked along the road, she dropped her head onto his shoulder and whispered in a barley audible voice, "It's nice to have someone."  
Then she spun round a lamppost and ran zig zag down the alleyway that lead back to their hotel.  
"Come on!" Olivia shouted and kicked off her heels towards Peter. Barefoot, she spun round a lamp post and started shouting 'PETER BISHOP' at the top of her voice.  
"Shhhhh!" Peter playfully clasped his hand over her mouth. Olivia frowned and then tried to speak through his palm.  
"You could get arrested for that." She said, folding her arms.  
"You're forgetting I'm a cop." Peter grinned and picked up Olivia's shoes as he watched her run towards the hotel. "I've got the room key you know!"  
"No you don't!" Olivia waved a white square of plastic in the air.  
"How did she-" Peter reached into his empty pocket and laughed. He chased after her, unaware of the eyes that watched them from behind the wheel of a black transit van.

Please Review, it really means a lot! Thank you!


	8. The Confession

It was too cold for September. And though the hotel walls muted the night, they did nothing for the cruel chill that snaked beneath the sheets. Olivia sunk deeper into the mattress, engrossed in her thoughts, petrified by the loneliness that sung in her ear. She turned over and pulled the duvet up over her head. Each breath became restricted, her lungs teasing for oxygen, and it calmed her. She felt her heart slow, soothing beats. And that second she felt a wave of safety wash over her, an urge to trust someone, to trust Peter. She slid out of bed and stood beside the sofa where Peter lay on his back, eyes wide and awake.  
"Couldn't sleep sweetheart?" The alert in his voice shocked her as if he had never fallen asleep, which she figured he hadn't. Olivia shook her head.  
"I need to talk to you." At this point she realised the alcohol from last night had not yet departed from her system and thought it may be best to leave this until the morning.  
"About what? Something so important it kept you awake, despite the intoxication..." Peter sat up and shuffled back making room for her to sit down.  
"No, your right it can wait until tomorrow."  
But Peter could see whatever it was was bothering her and he caught her by the wrist.  
"I don't think it can." He held her gaze so that she could not break away, but was forced to sit just beside him, and she could feel her heart beating against her chest.  
" I want to tell you about my-" she broke off, "my sister Rachel...and my niece. Ella."  
Peter could hear the pain in her voice, the rigid words that she had to near drag from the back of her throat.  
"I told you that they were murdered by ZFT, I didn't tell you it was my fault."  
Peter felt his heart freeze. He didn't want Olivia to tell him something she wouldn't tell him in her usual state. It was clear she felt vulnerable, alone and guilty.  
"Olivia you don't have to explain."

But she ignored him.

"I was a cop too once, kind of. Anti-terrorist squad but we dealt specifically in biological attacks. When i first started working undercover as part of ZFT I was staying with Rachel and Ella; visiting for Christmas, and I got called in.." She took a shallow breath.

"ZFT had planned an attack and they needed me there, as part of the delivery. This was there greatest, most horrific experiment yet. And I was to lead it. I shut down, every part of me wanted to run and when I heard what they were going to do- wipe people like a piece of computer hardware, every memory, dream and emotion... to create the ultimate army. I told my sister to stay inside, to keep Ella safe. I should have known better. I SHOULD HAVE STAYED WITH THEM!" She was choking back the tears, her eyes bloodshot, skin ghostly, she looked sick. Peters hand slid to the back of Olivia's neck, dropping her forehead onto his chest.  
"But i refused to do it. I refused to be a part of it. And they said my emotional ties were too strong." Her voice was barely audible now "He said- there had to be sacrifice. After that I quit. Until I realised the only way I could ever end ZFT was to work from the inside."  
She cleared her throat, a gravelly cough followed by a moment of silence. Peters thumb softly grazed Olivia's back.  
And from her glassy eyes Olivia could just make out something attached to the coffee table. A faint light. Red. Flashing on and off and on and- she shot up, reached for her gun and shot out the door. Down the corridor, the stairs and she saw it. The black SUV parked so innocently in the ally, a driver, possibly a front seat passenger, watching, listening...Olivia crept down the fire escape, the steel stairs burnt like hot coals on her feet. But they saw her and the engine growled as she raced towards the departing four by four. Her arms pumping up and down, eyes narrowed and she ran until she found herself planted in front of the car. Her gun ready to fire at a slight motion. Senses, reaction, emotions heightened.

And then, her head started to spin, round and around, her wrist dropped by half an inch as she steadied herself. But in that second her gun dropped too, and the driver rammed his heel into the pedal. Frozen metal came crashing into Olivia's abdomen, the wing mirror smashing against her left shoulder as she was thrown to the ground. She became aware of Peter shouting her name, gun shots fired- one, two, three...then another three, but the SUV had gone. Warm blood spilled from inside her ear, washing over her drained cheek. She felt Peters palm against her jaw, his fingertips searching her pulse point. Checking if she was alive. Great. And then with a sharp tear, Olivia felt her bear chest exposed to the biting wind. She groaned in agony as Peter removed a shard of glass lodged in her side.  
"I- can't -breathe." Olivia heaved, and as he ran his fingers along her chest she realised several if her ribs were shattered. Or they felt that way at least.  
"Who were they Olivia? ZFT? Shit. You need to get to a hospital." Peter reached into his pocket but her hand locked around his wrist before he could find a phone.  
"No." Olivia's voice was low and empty. "They can't know I'm here."  
"I can't move yoU by myself!" He shook his arm free, "You could die Olivia. Is it worth it?"

But before she could answer, the loss of blood dragged her unwillingly from consciousness.


End file.
